Please Come to Boston
by BluEyes
Summary: It all starts with a horribly innocent misunderstanding. The first thing I've written in forever...Mondler, of course!
1. Chapter 1

Please Come to Boston

Chapter 1

_Um…hi! Hm. I used to write here. I, um, haven't for…years. But, I've had this URGE to write for months, and have had a four year long writer's block, and, well…I needed something to start with to start writing again. So...here I am! Ha. No one here probably remembers me. I think everyone from back in "the day" is gone now. _

_Anyway, the fic! Well, you will figure it out, haha. I don't own the characters. If this sucks, I'm terribly sorry, but, like I said, I've had an insane writer's block for years, and I'm hoping this pulls me out of it! So, please review, and let me know how I'm doing here! If it sucks, I'll just delete it, and pretend I never ended the longest hiatus in the world. Ok…_

He clinched his fists, pushing them deep into the pockets of his jacket, pushing his feelings away as well. Fear, doubt…well, whatever of those feelings were left. Jealousy. Hatred. Love. Anger. Hurt. Love. Pushed them away, out of his head, his heart, his mind, forever.

Forever.

And he pulled the door to apartment 20 closed, pausing, momentarily considering walking into number 19 one last time. To say goodbye—and he really should say goodbye to Joe. But he couldn't. He couldn't face Joey again, not with the news he had just been given by him.

"_She went to her parents, I think…said she needed some time to think."_

What did she have to think about, had been his reply. Well, obviously, she had lots to think about. His plan had backfired, and now, this was it. It was over. He had lost her.

It was bound to happen. He knew the past two years had been to good to be true, but he had allowed himself to live it anyway. He had, stupidly, allowed himself to believe it was true, and would last forever. He always screwed up relationships. Always! Why would this time have been an exception to that rule? Especially because it was her, and she deserved everything in the world he had never been able to give to anyone.

Everything in the world.

He should have walked away when he had the chance. Before he got hurt, before she got hurt.

Especially before she got hurt.

He couldn't stand to think of the fact that he had just hurt her. Couldn't stand it.

And with that thought, he slipped his key under her door, taking a few shaky breaths before heading down the hallway, bag in hand, not able to look back, fearing that if he did look back onto the past ten years of his life, the tears wouldn't wait for him to reach solitude.


	2. Chapter 2

Please Come to Boston

Chapter 2

_Well, at least a couple of people remember me, haha. Thanks for the reviews, they are always appreciated! This, of course, will be Mondler. And…if this goes well, I actually have another fic in mind that I never wrote. Well, two, but…yea, we'll see how that goes. This semester sucks for me homework-wise. An-y-way (see, if you've read any of my other fics…I ramble. It's pretty much what I do), I don't own any of the lines from the actual show that I use._

Chandler sat on the bed in the dumpy hotel room in Queens where he had ended up for the night. He had needed out of Manhattan, needed to get out of there as fast as possible. And he had. He wasn't sure why "Queens" had popped out of his mouth when he got into a cab, but it had.

So, here he was. He didn't want to stay anywhere nice. He didn't want to be found. He just wanted to sit, and think, and wallow. And perhaps down the bottle of Captain Morgan he had stuffed into his bag earlier.

Chandler buried his head in his hands, the events of the past few hours playing out in his head.

"_She's not here," Richard moved out of the way as Chandler barged in. "And please, come in," he mused._

_"Scotch on the rocks, with a twist, on a coaster?" Chandler laughed. "Monica! Monica!" he was starting to panic, going to Richard's had merely been a whim; he had hoped not to find her._

"_Okay, she was here, but she left."_

"_Well, where did she go?"_

"_Well, she said she had to think things over…"_

Chandler poured himself a glass of the rum, slightly wrinkling his nose. Rum was _not_ his drink of choice. However, tonight, it would do the job. And, in the morning…it would probably still be doing its job.

"_She's gone," Joey confessed, voice shaking. "She had a bag, and she left."_

"_Well, why didn't you stop her?! Why didn't you just tell her it was a plan?!" Chandler practically yelled._

"_I-I did, I told her everything, Chandler! But she wouldn't believe me."_

"_Well, where…where did she go?"_

"_To her parent's, I think. And she said you shouldn't call her. But if I were you, I would."_

"_I can't believe I ruined this."_

"_I am so sorry man."_

"_Yea, well," Chandler turned, dejectedly walking into his apartment as Joey left to take out the bag of trash in his hand. Looking around, he realized Joey was right._

_She was gone._

Chandler held his cell phone, flipped open, the first 4 digits of the Gellar's phone number staring up at him on the screen. He wanted to call. God, did he want to call. Just to hear her voice. Hear that she was ok. Explain the whole stupid plan. God, did he want to call.

But she had said not to.

And what was the point? He already screwed up the best thing to ever happen to him. Really, with his track record, it was surprising they had lasted for two years anyway. Why tempt fate by trying to straighten out this misunderstanding, when another huge mistake on his part would surely follow?

Slowly, Chandler closed the phone, setting it on the bedside table. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the engagement ring as well, setting the box, open, next to the phone.

After staring at the ring for a moment, he again reached for the phone, knowing what needed to be done.

"Are you guys engaged yet?!" Joey slowly opened the door to Monica and Chandler's apartment, stopping suddenly when he got inside. Monica was sitting alone at the table, sipping a glass of red wine, candles lit all around the apartment, although a few lights were now turned on.

"I thought you said it was all a plan, Joe," she looked at him, stern but pleading. "I thought he was just trying to throw me off course. I thought you said he was on his way home. I thought…" Monica trailed off, shaking her head.

Joey stood, frozen to the ground, realization sinking in. "Y-you mean, Chandler isn't…Chandler isn't here?" Monica held her arms up, motioning around the empty apartment. "Oh, shit. O-oh, shit," Joey sat down beside her.

"Oh, shit, what, Joey?"

"You said to give you like, five, ten minutes, and that you would be ready! You were lighting candles! You were here! You had to have been here!"

"When was I here?" Monica looked at him, thoroughly confused.

"When Chandler came back," Joey explained. "Tell me, you were here, when Chandler came back, and thought that you had left," he choked out, practically pleading her.

Monica's hand flew to her mouth with a sudden realization. "I-I ran downstairs…to borrow some matches from Tregger. We didn't have any. I hadn't even started lighting any of the candles yet," Monica looked at Joey, who looked like he was about to cry, feeling he had just foiled their plan.

"Oh my god, Joe…he thinks I left him."

To be continued

_Keep the reviews coming, please and thank ya! :)_


	3. Chapter 3

Please Come to Boston

Chapter 3

_Llew! Aww! I didn't expect to see anyone I remembered! Ah-hh! Venused-what was your old penname? I wanna know if I remember you, too! Haha. Ah! This is just the best week ever! (why, Jamie, why is this the best week ever?) Funny you should ask. Well, I finally got over my 4 year writer's block, and *holds up left hand to show off very sparkly diamond ring* eeee! _

_Annnddd…I realize I'm updating quickly. I will continue as fast as my brain/schedule allow! However…I wouldn't expect me to keep updating daily, haha.  
_

Monica sighed, rolling over, frowning when she hit Chandler's side of the bed, yet was still alone.

And realization set in.

Squinting at her alarm clock, she now saw that it was 7:30 in the morning. Both she and Joey had been up until 4 calling every hotel in the city they could think of. When Rachel came home with Phoebe, they helped with the search, walking around the city to anywhere he might have gone.

No luck.

His cell phone had to have at least 100 missed calls and two dozen messages by the time Monica retired for the night.

Although Chandler normally didn't go to work this early, she thought it wouldn't hurt to try his office. She had left a couple of voicemails there the night before as well, but was desperate for actual contact with him.

"You've reached the department office for statistical analysis and data reconfiguration," she heard an unfamiliar voicemail. A very nasal, woman's voice. Not Helen, his assistant. Not Chandler. "I'm either away from my office or unable to come to the phone right now…"

No, no, that's not Chandler. She had dialed Chandler's direct number. Monica hung up, taking a deep breath before dialing again.

"Hello, this is Brandi," the nasal-voiced woman from the voicemail answered this time. "Hello?" she said again, Monica shocked to silence.

"Hi, um, sorry, I guess I was, I am, looking for Chandler Bing. I must have dialed your extension by mistake," Monica sighed in confusion.

"Oh, no," Brandi explained. "Mr. Bing is no longer with our division. All of his calls are being forwarded to me. Is there something I can help you with, Miss?"

Monica hung up, dropping the phone to the ground. A few shaky breaths later, she gathered her self up enough to walk out to the living room, where her three friends, and now brother, were all already waiting.

"He's gone," she choked out. "Gone, gone. His bag is gone. He quit his job. His cell isn't ringing this morning," she sunk down on the couch, shaking, as Rachel got up from her spot at the kitchen table to sit next to her. "He-he thought I left him, and now…he-he's gone," her voice cracked, no longer able to hold back the tears, which turned into sobs.

_._._._._._

Chandler sighed as he picked up his cell phone, knowing what needed to be done. He snapped the ring box closed, throwing it against the wall across the room from him.

He dialed. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. An answer.

"Um, Doug?"

"Bing! What the hell are you calling for so late at night?"

"Sorry, sir, it's just…is that position still open you told me about last week? With the seminars, the recruitment, and the traveling…" he trailed off.

"The HR position? Of course, kid! Why, you want it now?" he asked, confusion evident in his voice. Chandler had turned him down, saying he wouldn't want to be away from Monica that much.

"Yea, I just…yes. I want it," Chandler sighed.

"Well, if you're sure, Tom's leaving in the morning for the next seminar—you know Tom, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Ok, well, I'll call him and let him know. The flight's at 6. You have a company cell phone?"

"No, sir, just this one."

"Well, I have some things from the office I need to get to Tom for the presentation, so I'll grab another one for you tonight, and get it to him," Doug finished. "So, Bing United Airlines. I'll tell Tom, 4:30 in front of the check-in counter. You absolutely sure this is what you want to do?"

"Yep, sounds great," Chandler sighed. "Wait, where are we going tomorrow?"

"Boston."

To be continued…

_And, chaos insues! Haha, JUST kidding. But seriously….please review! :)_


	4. Chapter 4

Please Come to Boston

Chapter 4

_Here's the next part! I'm not all that thrilled with this part, which was originally going to be two parts, but it's a stepping-stone to the next two parts, so it is necessary. I wasn't going to update this until next week, but…too much alcohol last night is preventing me from enjoying the beautiful day outside, haha. And…no, that's all I've got._

Chandler rolled the window of the cab down, enjoying the cool night air on the way to the airport. He had almost called Monica six more times in the past few hours. Six. He had turned his cell phone off very early in the night, afraid he would give in if she called. But he couldn't do that. He couldn't hurt her again, any more, ever. He was done.

And he couldn't be in that city anymore. With her. He couldn't see anyone else. He couldn't let them be the next "Ross and Rachel." Although, it didn't seem like they would ever be able to go back to the "friend-zone." There had always been that extra spark between them, and they had gotten in way too deep to get over two broken hearts and go back to being "just friends."

So, he was running. He was doing the only thing he could think of. He was getting the hell out of New York as fast as he could. Getting as far away from Monica as he could. He couldn't hurt her again.

And, truthfully, he couldn't take anymore hurt himself.

As he powered on his cell phone, he saw the two dozen voicemails left in the hours his phone had been off. He sighed, torn at what to do. Finally, he made his decision, throwing it out the window as hard as he could, wincing as he watched it shatter on the pavement behind him.

"What the hell are you doing, man?!"

"Sorry," Chandler apologized to the cabbie, not sure if he should regret his last move.

No, he decided. Not something to regret.

At least not yet.

_._._._._._._

"Mon," Rachel said quietly, peeking her head into her room. Monica hadn't been out in almost 24 hours. "Monica, you need to come out. Eat something. Shower. Maybe you'll feel a little better?" She walked over, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Maybe I don't want to feel better," Monica mumbled, her back away from Rachel. She was staring at Chandler's side of the closet, remembering the fight that ensued over the closet the night he moved in. Who got how much space, why were her shoes on his side, oh, but now his work shirts were squished and wrinkly, no, he's not going to iron every morning, why can't her stuff be squished instead? It had ended in a tickle fight, both of them falling to the bed in tears of laughter, the fight never mentioned again. However, they both silently took over the other's side every time laundry was done—a bit of a silent war between them.

It now looked sad and half empty, although Chandler hadn't taken much—a couple of suits, maybe a sweater or two. She would throw all of her clothes on the floor and give him the whole closet if only he would come home.

"I don't deserve to feel better. He's gone because of _me_. What the hell is wrong with me?!" Monica sat up. "I mean, I can see him freaking out, and playing this stupid game with the plan to throw me off, but," she shook her head, "What the hell is wrong with _me_? Why did I do it back? Why did I go to fucking _Richard's_? Why did I wait? Why did I mess with his head? Why would I do that, to _Chandler_ of all people? I know he is insecure, I know he has all of these issues and hang ups about relationships. Why would I do that to him?"

"Mon, you wanted to surprise him," Rachel whispered, placing a hand on her back. "Just like he wanted to surprise you. He'll be home in a few days, you'll see. He just needs some time to cool off."

"He's not mad, Rach," Monica sighed, swinging her feet off the edge of the bed and standing up. "He's hurt," she looked down, shaking her head. "I just broke his heart."

_._._._._._._

"Hey, man," Tom smiled, waving Chandler over to where he was standing. "God, you look like hell," he laughed as Chandler approached. "Woman, or alcohol?"

Chandler laughed as well, shaking Tom's hand. "A little of the latter, mostly the former," he answered truthfully as Tom handed him the cell phone he had been promised, as well as his plane ticket.

"Well, we should be in Boston by 7, presentation is at 8, should be done by 10," Tom grinned. "And that's it for today! We have 6 tickets the company bought for a Red Socks game, if you want one, something to take your mind off of this girl? Anyway, for the presentation…"

Chandler was only half-listening to Tom. He knew he really should listen, since he really wasn't 100% sure what they were doing, but he figured he would just watch and listen today, maybe be ready for whatever was planned the next day. His heart was racing as they neared security.

What the hell was happening?

He was nervous, for some reason. Not to fly. Not to start a new position in his company. But…to leave. Sure, he would be back for a few days in a week or so, but…he was leaving. He was leaving his Monica.

No, no, he shook his head. She left him. Because he screwed up. This was his fault, but she had already left, he was just making it easier for both of them to move on.

­_._._._._._

"Just because he thinks you left, doesn't mean you really have to leave!"  
Joey whined, watching Monica pack. "Please stay. I already lost him, I can't lose you, too," he looked down, scuffing his feet.

"Joey, I'm not _leaving_-leaving," Monica smiled at him. "Well, I am, but only for six months. I'll be back before you know it!'

"But, why, Monica?"

"Joe," she sighed. "I just can't be here right now. This opportunity couldn't have come at a better time! A week ago, I would have said no, but now," she forced a smile. "I'm going to Paris!" Joey didn't return her smile. "Look, Joe," Monica sighed. "I know this sucks. But this culinary school is…amazing. And, if this is what it takes to get this new job I was offered, and they are paying for it, I can't not go. I know it's short notice, but…"

"It's just easier not to be here right now," he finished for her. "It just sucks, I already lost one of my best friends. You better come back," he moved to hug her. "And, you better be sending home samples of everything you make!"

_._._._._._._

Rachel sighed, looking around Monica's apartment as she threw a stack of mail on the table. She had moved back in while Monica was gone. The familiar apartment had never seemed so empty and lonely. Her orders were to pack up Chandler's stuff. Not get rid of it, just get it out of sight. She was to make it so nothing would remind Monica of him when she got home. They had stopped saying his name around her before she left. Always just saying "him." Never Chandler. They had all sworn not to mention him when she called home.

Truthfully, though, they were all hurting. Two of their best friends had just left. How could they not be hurting? No one else openly acknowledged this, however. Well, other than Joey. They knew that Monica was hurting so much more than anyone else, and no one wanted to make her feel worse about it.

Not sure where to start, Rachel decided to start with the mail. She had gotten a shoebox she planned to put Monica's mail in, and started sorting it, throwing anything that wasn't junk into the box, stopping when she came to a letter-sized envelope with no return address. It was addressed to Monica, and Rachel couldn't be positive, but would bet money on the handwriting being Chandler's. Rachel laughed; it was post-marked on Friday. Monica left on Friday.

Sighing, Rachel threw it in the box as well. Monica didn't want to hear from him or hear about him. He had dropped out of their lives completely, with not so much as a phone number, so she wanted nothing to do with him. Wanting Monica to get the most of her time away, and, more importantly, wanting her to move on, Rachel pretended not to recognize the handwriting.

'Could be from anyone,' Rachel shrugged, grabbing a few boxes and heading into Monica's bedroom, deciding to tackle their closet.

To be continued….

_Review, please :) cause, ya know, it makes me happy. AND because I have the next two parts pretty much written, so the more, um, inspiration I have to finish them, the sooner they will be up ;)_


	5. Chapter 5

Please Come to Boston

Chapter 5

**Six months later**

"So," Chandler slung his laptop case over his shoulder as they got off of the plane. "What's next?"

"Um, three days at home?" Tom replied. "LA next week."

"Sounds good," Chandler smiled, genuinely meaning it. He really wouldn't mind stopping to see his mom while he was there. And, truthfully, he loved his new position. He loved talking to people all day. As much as he had hated his job, it was amazing he could successfully recruit people to work for his company. But he really, really loved it. And the traveling wasn't too bad, either. He loved seeing all of the new cities. He had bought a camera on a whim while shopping with Tom in St. Louis, and since had developed quite a love for photographing each new city. One of these days, he kept promising himself, he was going to take some of New York as well, but his heart wouldn't have it yet.

"Have a good weekend with your family," Chandler waved as they parted ways at the airport, silently praying the three days at home went fast, eager to get out of the city once again.

_._._._._._.

Monica walked as fast as her legs could carry her. As beautiful as Paris had been, and as much fun as she had doing nothing but cooking and baking for months, she had missed New York. The trip hadn't been a waste at all; in fact, it had been a complete success. It was true what they say, if you want to become fluent in a language, emerge yourself in it. And it hadn't hurt to get away from a place that reminded her so much of him. She had met some great people, learned a lot. She had a great new job to look forward to starting, and she had missed her purple apartment terribly, as well as her friends. Seeing Rachel waiting by baggage claim, Monica grinned, and Rachel squealed in delight, running to hug her friend.

She was home.

_._._._._._._

"So, how long are you home for?"

"Until late Monday night," Chandler answered Vanessa, his neighbor in his new apartment, both of them checking their mail. "Why, what do you have in mind?" he asked suggestively.

Vanessa laughed, knowing he was joking. "Well…would you mind watching Kenzi Saturday night?"

"Big date?"

"Eh, kinda," Vanessa shrugged, waiting for him, and walking up to their apartments together.

"Sure, no problem," Chandler smiled. "Beats the hell out of my plans."

"Which are…"

"Sitting at home alone all night. I'd much prefer the company of an 18-month-old," he smiled at the little girl in her arms.

"So, how was Phoenix?"

"Hot," Chandler laughed. "Hey, I need to shower, I've been sitting in airports all day," he unlocked his door. "Wanna grab something to eat later?"

"Definitely. Stop by when you're ready," she smiled, walking into her own apartment as well.

_._._._._._._

"What'd you bring me?!" Joey jumped immediately as Monica and Rachel walked through the door, both laughing at his reaction.

"I was supposed to bring you something?" Monica asked in mock confusion, reaching into her duffle bag. "I guess there might be something in here for you," she looked around the apartment, noting that Rachel had done her job. Everything of his was gone. No books. No CDs. No barca lounger.

"Ooh! Mon!" Phoebe popped up. "Your aura's all bright and orange now!" she exclaimed. "It was all murky and pea-green colored when you left," she wrinkled her nose.

Monica laughed. She was afraid that coming home was going to be all too hard, but was happily surprised to find it completely the opposite—all too easy.

_._._._._._._

Chandler sighed, dropping another letter into a mailbox before heading to the L.A. airport. They were going home for two weeks this time, and although Chandler was happy for a short break, he wasn't sure how he would handle it. He hadn't been home for more than three or four days at a time in six months, and it scared him to have that much time with his thoughts.

_._._._._._._

"Hey, Rach," Monica yelled. "Where's my mail?"

"Shoebox under the counter!" Rachel yelled back from the bathroom.

"Thanks," Monica grabbed the box, not at all prepared for what she would find. Taking the lid off, she immediately recognized the handwriting of the envelope on top. She frowned; there was no return address, post-marked the day she had left. Heart pounding, she flipped through the rest of that stack. There were dozens of letters, all post-marked from different cities. All his handwriting. All within days of each other, steadily, for the past six months. None with a return address.

"Mon, just a warning," Rachel walked out, realizing she was too late, seeing the tears in Monica's eyes, stack of letters on the kitchen table, the first one in her hands.

"Oh my god, Rach," Monica whispered. "Read it…."

To be continued…


	6. Chapter 6

Please Come to Boston

Chapter 6

_Ok, um….Hm. What to say about this part. Bare with me, I suppose, we're getting there, I promise!_

Rachel slowly reached for the letter in Monica's hand as Monica opened the next envelope. Reading it, she wondered if she should have sent the letters to Monica sooner.

_Mon,_

_You said not to call you, but I need to say this to you, so writing seemed like the thing to do._

_I'm sorry that I'm just leaving like this. God, you have no idea how sorry I am. I really don't blame you for leaving, either. I'm sorry I'm so immature. I'm sorry I don't know how to be a "grown up." I'm sorry I can't give you what you want or need. If you think it over, and Richard is what you want, I hope you go for it, and you're happy._

_I'm traveling for work now. I never told you Doug offered me this position, but, I never thought I would want to take a position that would keep me away from home for a week at a time. Funny how that changed so quickly._

_Like I said, I'm sorry for leaving, but I think it's best for us both. I've obviously already hurt you enough; I can't bear to hurt you again, or to even see you this hurt. I think it's for the best. This way, we can both move on. You can go on with your life, and find someone who is everything you want. Someone who can give you everything I can't. And…I won't have to stand by and watch it. I __**can't**__ stand by and watch._

_Please don't be sad for too long._

_Love you, always,_

_Chandler_

__._._.__

"Read this one," Monica whispered, handing Rachel the next letter.

__._._.__

_Please come to Boston for the springtime_

_I'm staying with some friends, and they've got lots of room_

_You can sell your paintings on the sidewalk_

_By a café where I hope to be working soon_

_Please come to Boston…_

__._._._  
_

Rachel looked up, confused. Monica handed her the next letter, now many envelopes ahead of Rachel.

__._._.__

_Please come to Denver to see the snowfall_

_We'll move up into the mountains,_

_So far we can't be found_

_And throw "I love you" echoes down the canyon_

_And then lie awake at night, until they come back around_

_Please, come to Denver…_

__._._.__

Rachel grabbed the next letter, eager to put the mystery together, since Monica had obviously figured out something she had not.

__._._.__

_There is no Arizona _

_No Painted Desert, no Sedona_

_If there was a Grand Canyon_

_She could fill it up with the lies he's told her_

_But they don't exist, those dreams he sold her_

_She'll wake up and find_

_There is no Arizona…_

__._._.__

"Are they all songs?" Rachel finally asked, now tearing through the letters as quickly as Monica. Monica nodded, continuing the letter she was reading.

__._._.__

_Omaha, somewhere in middle America_

_Get right to the heart of matters_

_It's the heart that matters more_

_I think you better turn your ticket in_

_And get your money back at the door…_

__._._.__

"There's twenty or so more," Monica whispered. "It's everywhere he's been, look, the songs match where he sent them from," she handed Rachel the envelopes she had already opened before digging through the stack, taking out the last two envelopes, badly wanting to know where he was now.

__._._.__

_Now the drifter's world_

_Goes round and round_

_And I doubt if it's ever gonna stop_

_But of all the dreams_

_I've lost or found_

_And all that I ain't got_

_**I need someone to cling to**_

_Somebody I can sing to_

_Please come to LA, to stay forever_

_A California life alone is just too hard to live_

_I live in a house that looks out over the ocean_

_And there's some stars, that fell from the sky_

_Livin on the hill_

_Please, come to LA…_

__._._.__

Monica handed her the letter, slowly opening the last one, post-marked from a week earlier, gasping at the end.

__._._.__

_I told you, forever, I love you, forever_

_You might've laughed if I told you,_

_You might have hidden your frown._

_You might've succeeded in changing me,_

_I might've been turned around._

_It's easier to leave than to be left behind,_

_Leaving was never my proud,_

_Leaving New York never easy,_

_I saw the light fading out._

_Leaving New York never easy_

__._._.__

There was something different about this letter, though; it was followed by an address. And not just any address, but an address that couldn't have possibly been more than blocks from her own.

To be continued….

_I don't own any of the lyrics. _

"_Please come to Boston" is by Dave Loggins (however, I'm __**in love**__ with the Kenny Chesney version!) This was the inspiration for this story:)_

"_There is no Arizona" is by Jamie O'Neal_

"_Omaha" is by Counting Crows_

"_Leave New York" is by REM_

_Ok, I actually had 3 ways I thought of going with this fic…this is one…I'll explain what the other two were in the next part…don't want to give anything away :) And…don't give up on this fic, haha, I'm going somewhere with it, I promise!_


	7. Chapter 7

Please Come to Boston

Chapter 7

"Ander!" Kenzi exclaimed as he opened the door, saying his name as best she could.

"Hi, Kenzi," he smiled at her, then Vanessa, taking the toddler from her mother.

"Thank you so much for this," Vanessa handed him Kenzi's bag. "She already ate dinner, but there are a few snacks in her bag if she wants one in an hour or so. Bedtime's 8," she paused, feeling like she was forgetting something. "You have her playpen. You have my cell number," she stated, not asked.

"Stop worrying, she will be in one piece when you get home," Chandler laughed. "You look beautiful, but the way," he nodded to her obviously new dress.

"Thanks," she blushed slightly. After Chandler had moved into the building, a place Tom had recommended, Vanessa had actually asked him out. He turned her down, explaining that he was recently single, and not ready to start dating again yet, but could really use a friend. "Well," she cleared her throat, "I should really get going."

"Have fun," he said, "Say bye to Mommy," he looked down at the girl in his arms, who waved as her mom walked out the door.

_._._._._._

"What am I doing, what am I doing," Monica mumbled to herself, looking at the address on the paper, and then looking up at the building. She paused momentarily; she wasn't prepared for this. She hadn't really thought the whole thing through, which was entirely un-Monica like. All she knew was that she needed—_needed_—to see him.

But what was she going to say after she punched in his apartment number? 'Hey Chandler, I'm the one who broke your heart, wanna buzz me up?' She shook her head, now staring at the intercom. He wouldn't have sent his address if he didn't want to see her.

_._._._._

"Damnit," Chandler jumped when he heard his intercom buzz, causing him to spill the milk he was pouring into a sippy cup for Kenzi, who was sitting in her playpen instead of laying, refusing to go to sleep. He hit the button to let whoever was outside in, realizing a moment later he had no idea who could possibly be coming up. 'Probably the wrong apartment number,' he decided, grabbing a towel to wipe up the spill. His head snapped up when there was a knock on the door, and he walked over, still holding the wet towel, unlocking and opening the door. His breath caught in his throat, not expecting to actually see her again.

"Mon…"

_._._._._

_Yea, I'm that mean…I'm ending this part there :) Review, please and thank you!_


	8. Chapter 8

Please Come to Boston

Chapter 8

_Thanks for the reviews! Yes, Chandler has Kenzi at his apartment…I thought that was clear from Vanessa leaving Kenzi's stuff with her in the beginning of the last part, but I'll go back over it and make sure._

_Where we last left off…_

_._._._._._

Monica stood outside his door. Ironically, it was apartment number 20. She almost laughed, but instead, took a deep, shaky breath, all of the emotions she had been hiding from for the past six months suddenly bombarding her at once. Not wanting to leave, afraid he would somehow know it had been her, she knocked. The first knock was shaky; she composed herself more for the second.

When he opened the door, she could have cried.

"Mon," his voice caught in his throat, and he was suddenly unsure of whether he wanted to hug her or yell at her, or perhaps even cry. Was she really there, standing less than three feet from him? He had practiced, over and over, what he would say to her when this moment arrived, but now that it had, no words came. Only her name hung on his lips.

"Can I-Can I explain something? Before you say anything? Or think anything?" Monica started, tears already forming in her eyes, threatening to fall at any moment. "It was-it was all a plan," she choked out. "To throw you off, like you were trying to throw me off. I knew you were going to propose, I knew you were trying to throw me off, so I was trying to beat you to it," she continued, and Chandler looked at her in confusion. "I had candles, all of these candles, Chandler! You must have come at the worst possible time," she wiped her eyes. "I ran downstairs, to, to borrow some matches from Tregger-"

"But Joey said you left," Chandler interrupted, barely even in a whisper, his own speech he planned on giving at this moment completely forgotten.

"I know," Monica nodded. "That was part of the plan," she again wiped her eyes, actually telling the story out loud becoming gut-wrenchingly hard. "God, I'm so sorry, Chandler," she whispered, slowly making eye contact.

"When you left," Chandler paused. "What I thought you left," he paused again, trying to get the words out. "You broke me, Monica, you broke me in a way I didn't think possible. And, believe me, I've been through some shit before."

"I know," Monica nodded. "I know, because when you just-just left…I broke, too," she choked out. "And that was the worst part. _I_ broke me. I mean, you did, but…it was my fault as much as yours. And then, I just never heard from you again…"

"I wrote letters, dozens of letters, for months," he paused, interrupted when Kenzi cried, letting him know that she was still not asleep and waiting for the pomised milk. Monica looked at him, confused. "My neighbor's daughter," he explained. "I'm babysitting," he moved away from the door, motioning for her to follow. "Be right back," he grabbed the sippy cup off of the counter, going into his bedroom.

Monica looked around his apartment. It was a very grown-up feeling apartment, probably what his would have been like much sooner had it not been for Joey living with him. The furniture was black, and there were black and white photographs on the walls of various cities.

He returned a few moments later with Kenzi in his arms, laying against his chest. "This is Kenzi," he said when Monica looked up.

"Hi, Kenzi," Monica smiled at the little girl, a twinge of jealousy at the sight of him with someone else's child. At that moment, Monica stopped, realizing she had no idea what his life consisted of at the moment, other than a job that took him away a lot.

"Say hi, Kenz," he looked down at her, but she buried her face in his chest, and he shrugged at Monica. "I, um, took those," he said, motioning to the photographs Monica was looking at.

"Really?" He nodded in return, sitting down on the couch. "Wow."

After a few minutes of silence, the only noise audible being Kenzi drinking her milk, Chandler finally broke it. "The first letter I wrote," he began, shaking his head. "I guess…I guess I thought that, if you didn't want me to call you, it must have been bad. That Ireally screwed us up. _I, _not _you_," he paused, making eye contact. "You didn't want to talk to me, let alone see me. So, I thought that was the only way to get some sort of connection with you. And, I figured if you wanted, if I deserved it, you could call me…"

"Chandler, your phone number doesn't exist anymore," Monica stated, much more in control than earlier.

"No, I wrote my new one on the back of that letter. I, um, may have taken some frustration out on my old phone," he laughed at the memory. "But, after so many weeks, and you didn't call, I figured…that was it. But, I just…I needed to feel some sort of connection to you, Mon. I couldn't bear the thought of having lost you forever because I was just so _stupid_. And while my whole point in taking this stupid job, which, I love by the way, was to get away from this city, away from you," he paused, looking down at Kenzi, now asleep. He set her down on the blanket spread out on the floor from where she was playing earlier. "I still needed to know that…god, I don't even know," he continued with a sigh. "I guess, I needed to have some connection with you. I still loved you, and I wanted you to feel that, I guess."

Monica sat for a few seconds, taking it in. "I was in Paris," she finally whispered.

"You what?" he looked at her in disbelief.

"I, also got this job offer, contingent on me attending this culinary school program in Paris," she laughed at the situation, dripping with irony. "I never got your letters! Until yesterday," she shook her head. "You wanna hear the real stinger? That first letter? Post-marked the day I left. Not the day after. Not a week later," she paused, looking down. "The day that I left," she finished slowly, emphasizing each word.

After letting it sink in for a few moments, Chandler let out a soft chuckle. Monica met his eyes, smiling when she saw the soft smile playing on his lips, and she laughed as well, finally seeing the humor in the torturous situation.

"So, um," Chandler scooted slowly closer to Monica's end of the couch, not stopping unil he held her hands in his. "I, uh, I guess we _really_ need to work on our communication skils, huh?" he mused, and Monica laughed.

"That would be a good place to start," she nodded, fingers still laced in his, and for the first time in months, she felt ok, like a huge weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. And although she knew it wouldn't be as simple as that, that they couldn't magically go back to exactly how it had once been, it was at least a place to start. "That sounds like a _perfect_ place to start."

_._._._._._

The End!

_._._._._._

_Um…sorry about the abrupt ending. I'm…done with this fic. Like, my brain is done writing it. Although I am __**very**__ thankful for this fic, since it got me out of an incredibly painful 4 year long writers' block, this isn't quite how I wanted it to go. _

_When I wrote the first chapter of this, I had three different directions I had considered going…This one, having Chandler actually go to Boston and live there, and Monica eventually goes there to find him, or else Monica sending Chandler a letter back saying "you come home to me" which is also a part of the song that he wrote to her. Maybe, maybe, I'll continue this eventually. Or, maybe, I could re-work it to incorporate one of the other ideas that I had considered. I guess we'll see._

_Please leave some final reviews! If you have a request for what you want me to do with this, either leave it, continue it, or rework it, let me know! I'll seriously take them into consideration, though I can't make any promises! Thanks for all of the reviews for this! They mean so much :)_


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